


Four Corners - Harry

by pintsandguitars



Series: Four Corners [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Everyone Loves Niall, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Narry - Freeform, OT5, of course who wouldn't, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1399282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pintsandguitars/pseuds/pintsandguitars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall is, all in all, perfect. </p>
<p>So is it really a surprise that he's nuzzled his way into the hearts of all of the four boys? </p>
<p>Follow along as Louis, Harry, Liam and Zayn all try and woo Niall through  fluffly <i> fluffy <i>dates. </i></i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i><br/><i> Today, it is Harry's turn.</i></i><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Corners - Harry

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it's good. Follow me on [ Tumblr ](http://pointniall.tumblr.com/)
> 
> \-- B <3

Harry Styles is a loser, really. He’s a loser and an oaf and a bit of a buffoon whose feet are about three sizes too big. But the thing is, no one else really knows this except Harry Styles himself. Because as much of a loser and an oaf and a downright buffoon he is, he’s also quite the charmer. He’s got these dimples and this smile and this seductive, sexy drawl of a voice that charms people into eating right out of the palm of his hand. It’s quite the paradox, really. He makes bad puns and walks awkwardly and his stories always end up being “funnier in person”, and he should be exactly the type of person that makes people cringe while laughing nervously. But rather, it just makes people laugh more genuinely and shake their heads at him as they smile and tell him just how _endearing_ he is. So, he takes it. He takes his smile and his dimples and his _damn voice_ , and charms his way into people’s hearts (and most often their beds as well). He didn’t even have to try (he doesn’t really want to either). A few puns here, a couple winks there, and the poor soul has fallen in love with Harry Styles before the conversation has even begun. After that, Harry just has to say when.

So, imagine his surprise when, face full of dimples and eyes full of sparkle, he saunters up to a blonde bombshell during golf practice and the first thing this boy says to him is, “Your charm isn’t going to work here, Styles.”

And maybe it’s because of his ego, maybe it’s because he likes a challenge, or maybe it’s because Niall Horan’s arse looked too bloody cute in his uniform, Harry _wants_ to try (it’s actually because Niall’s laugh gives him butterflies, but he would never admit that out loud).

And that’s the reason he’s standing at start of 455 Jovant St’s driveway, holding a bouquet of assorted flowers and checking his deodorant for the fifth time (he still smells decent).

This is quite unprecedented for Harry Styles. He doesn’t usually get nervous for dates. That’s due to the fact that he rarely goes _on_ dates.

Harry is a charmer, he really is, but charm only gets a person so far. Before he turned fifteen and puberty blessed him like it’s blessed no other person, he was the kid that got pushed around in the playground because his glasses were too big for his face.

Fifteen came and went, filling out his body and sharpening his face, but Harry was still the kid with the huge glasses. And even now, past the cheekiness and the flashy smiles, he’s still a little batty and has an odd sense of humour that no one seems to understand. That’s why he Googles his knock-knock jokes. And someone that Google’s knock-knock jokes may do just that because holding a conversation is a bit difficult.

He’s awkward, really, and how exactly do awkward people do dates again? (He should’ve Googled it).

So he’s a little nervous, ‘a little’ being an understatement.

“Man up, Harry,” he tells himself. Bending down to his side-view mirror, he fixes his hair by running his long fingers through them. Then, he takes a final, deep breath, and makes his way up to the front-door.

After quick ring of the doorbell, Harry watches the door to Niall Horan’s house open to reveal a small, blonde woman behind it. She has kind blue eyes and a friendly smile.

“You must be Harry, then?” she asks.

“Yes, hello. I take it that you’re Mrs. Horan?” he offers his hand to her, and she takes it, accepting a handshake. But instead, Harry brings it up to his lips and places a soft kiss on it.

“Oh, well aren’t you quite the gentleman, Harry!” she coos, a slight pink shade lining her cheekbones. He smiles a slow smile at her, putting on his best charm.

“And aren’t you quite the looker, Mrs. Horan! Niall never mentioned how beautiful his mother really was,” he says smoothly. She throws her head back and laughs openly, reminding Harry very much of her son.

“Please, call me Maura. Niall warned me you were a cheeky one!” she swats his arm gently, clearly amused.

“Maura, ma’am, I’m quite serious. What do you say we leave Niall be and I’ll take _you_ out instead?” He wants Niall’s parents to like him, he really _really_ does.  

A smile claims the bottom half of her face and just as she opens her mouth to say something--

“Oi, Styles! Shamelessly flirting with me mum just seconds before taking me out?!” He hears the twinge of Irish those sentences come dressed in, and Harry gulps, preparing himself for the mental blank that usually comes around whenever his eyes land on Niall.

His blonde head pops out behind his mums shoulder, and he gives Harry his best thousand-watt smile. Harry’s heart flutters and he is trying to remember how to breathe.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Niall’s pale blue eyes are twinkling with excitement, as they always seem to be. It makes Harry want to jump into them and never leave. His heart beat quickens.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Niall’s cheeks are slightly flushed, giving his face a slightly pinkish tint. Harry starts to wonder _just_ how pink he could make them, and some very dirty thoughts begins to race through his mind.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Harry feels hot all over, and all he’s done is _look_ at Niall. How is he going to get through the entire fucking date without spontaneously combusting?

_Harry, don’t fuck this up,_ he tells himself sternly.  _Get your shit together. He’s just a guy. A normal person. A normal person who most certainly does not make my brain turn into mush._

“Actually, Niall, if you don’t mind, I was planning on replacing your mum with you tonight. She seems like better company and is certainly better looking.” Harry smirks at his ability to process thoughts again and Niall laughs whole-heatedly at his statement. It sends chills down Harry’s spine and all Harry wants to do is make Niall laugh.

“I’ll give you ‘better company’, but better looking? I’ll have ya know, mate, that I was once told I looked like a heavenly Irish angel who had accidently fallen to Earth.” Niall winks at Harry and Harry feels his cheeks grow very hot. Because it was Harry who had told him that. Harry, who’s brain had completely shut down when trying to ask Niall out, and Harry, who’s mouth had started to ramble incoherent and entirely embarrassing phrases.

“Whoever said that must’ve been a real tool, then” he says quietly, ducking his eyes to avoid the pure amusement apparent on Niall’s face.

“Well, he isn’t so much of a tool as he is adorable,” Niall reassures him, and Harry’s stomach flips.

Maura bids goodbye to Harry, telling Niall to behave himself. Niall tells her he won’t and Harry feels a tingle run between his thighs.

“Ready to go?” Niall asks and Harry tries to stop picturing Niall naked. He nods eagerly.

\--

“So, Styles, where ya taking me?” Niall asks from the passenger seat. There is soft swing music playing through the speakers and Harry is holding the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

“I can’t say. It’s kind of a surprise,” Harry says softly. His eyes are dead-set on the road, straining very hard not to stare at the blonde sitting beside him.

“Fuckin ace. First Louis, now you. What ever happened to the good ol’ dinner and a movie?” Niall exclaims, throwing his hands up in mock frustration.

Harry’s fingers tighten even more around the wheel and his eyes narrow. _Louis Tomlinson_

“Why what did Louis do?” Harry asks, trying to act nonchalant. His feeble attempt obviously fails because Niall raises his eyebrows at Harry and gives him a smug smile.

“Oh you know, this and that,” he vaguely replies.

Honestly though, Harry wasn’t concerned about Louis Tomlinson. Sure he was a champion at football and sure, he had the looks. But Tomlinson ran with the _popular_ crowd, a group of people Harry was pretty sure had had their brains removed as infants. Surely _his_ Niall was not that superficial.

So, no, Harry was not worried about Louis Tomlinson.

But that wasn’t to say he wasn’t worried. No, he was. He was worried about Zayn _Malik_. Here was the thing about Zayn Malik: he was gorgeous, somber and smart. He was the kind of guy people wrote poetry about. And when you’re the kind of person people write poetry about, wooing a blonde with a heart the size of Russia couldn’t really be that hard.

“You’re awfully quiet, Styles. No compliments for me today? Not feeling the snapback?” Niall suddenly says, breaking his train of thought.

Harry takes another deep breath. “I’m feeling the snapback, don’t you worry,” he says, reaching over and plucking the hat clean off of Niall’s head. Then, he winks at Niall and places it over his own curls. “Well, how does it look?”

Niall cocks his head to the left and Harry gives him his best pout.

“Nah. You’re more of a beanie man. The snapback hides your luscious curls,” he finally announces, shaking his head. Reaching over, he swipes the hat back and replaces back on his head.

“Oh, you like my curls then?” he asks, using his left hand to fluff his curls dramatically.

“No, I really just wanted my hat back,” Niall replies offhandedly, turning his face away from Harry to look out the window. But Harry sees his small smile and the wonderful shade of pink covering his cheeks.

His stomach flips a little more and it is at this point that Harry realizes how far gone he really is.

\--

When Harry announces that they’re there, Niall angles his entire body towards him and narrows his eyes questioningly.

“Are you fucking serious?” Niall’s tone is seething with anger and his arms are crossed over his body defensively.

“What?” Harry asks, his forehead creasing. Something just happened but he really isn’t sure what. He’d done everything right. He’d even managed to keep the conversation going in the car. Albeit, conversation with Niall was a lot easier than he thought, but everything had gone well so far.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Liam said, he _told me_ , but I thought I would give you a chance,” Niall spits, his eyes manic with fury.

“Liam Payne? What? Niall, c’mon,” Harry gulps, reaching out to grab Niall’s hand. But Niall flinches. He _flinches_ and this sends daggers into Harry’s heart.

“I’m not going to have sex with you in your fucking _car_ , Harry. I can’t believe you. I heard gossip about your reputation, really, but I never listened to them. I thought it was idiotic gossip.” Niall was shaking.

“What?” he sputters. His goddamn _reputation._ “Niall, I don’t want you to have sex with me in my car.”

Niall’s face softens and he finally looks at Harry “No?” he asks softly and Harry shakes his head desperately. “But, you said we’re here. We’re—we’re not really anywhere.”

“We’re at a park,” Harry says, looking down at his hands. “I packed a picnic basket.”

“Oh,” he hears Niall breathe out. His eyes are stinging, his vision becoming blurry. He didn’t even know he _had_ a reputation, much less a one like that. Sure, he slept around but he didn’t do anything the other person didn’t want him to. And he was always polite. He just, he didn’t know how to stick around after and talk. He figured they didn’t _want_ him to either.

Both of them don’t say anything for a while.

“I can take you back home if you want,” he mumbles, lifting his head to look at Niall.

“I’d rather have a picnic,” Niall says. “If you still want to.”

He does.

“I do.”

Niall nods. Then he reaches out and squeezes Harry’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking into the very depths of Harry’s emerald eyes.

Harry smiles at him. “It’s okay,” he whispers back.

“Can we forget this whole thing every happened and start over?” Niall asks, biting his bottom lip. His eyes wide, full of expectancy. Harry’s stomach does another flip.

He smiles, all slow and charming, “I’m Harry Styles.” And because he is, he winks. Niall’s laughter rings throughout the car, slicing through the tension.

Harry thinks about how much he loves that sound.

“So, picnic?”

\--

As they walk away from the car with Harry’s left hand carrying the woven basket full of food, Niall finds his right hand and slips it into his own.

Harry smiles into the darkness, his cheeks growing hot.

“How far are we going?” Niall asks.

“Near the water. There is a picnic table, it’s quieter and well, it’s really goddamn pretty,” he admits, chuckling nervously.

Niall squeezes his hand in response and Harry just really wants to see his face.

They walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence. Harry realizes, for the first time in his life, what comfortable silence is.

He realizes it’s when two people are just happy to be in each other’s presence, absorbing each other’s energy, and don’t feel the need to interrupt the moment with unnecessary words.

So, he absorbs Niall’s energy and hopes Niall is absorbing his, and he finds that holding hands in silence is really quite intimate.

When they finally get to the clearing, Niall let’s out an audible gasp. “Harry this is…” and he squeezes Niall’s hand to let him know he understands.

The moon is full tonight, bathing the scenery in a soft, white glow. Harry can just make out Niall’s face, his eyes wide as he takes in the landscape. The water is lapping quietly at the edge of the park, surrounding them in a kind of a rhythmic music.

It’s serene, this place. It’s kind of Harry’s escape. When he’s stressed out or overwhelmed or just feels like being alone for a little bit, this is where he comes. It’s his place.

He tells Niall that.

“You brought me to your escape?” Niall whispers, even though they’re alone.

Harry nods.

“Why?”

“’Cause I like you a lot.” He says it. He says it before he can overthink it and question it a million times in his head. He says it before his brain tells him it could get him hurt. He says it before he convinces himself not to.

Niall nods. “You’re not the Harry Styles everyone makes you out to be, are you?” He asks it like a question but Harry understands it’s not to be answered. He understands that Niall said it more for himself than he did for Harry.

So instead he drops Niall’s hands and walks over to the picnic table. He takes out a table cloth and drapes it over the table, pulls out the box of sandwiches, sets up the plates and the cutlery, and lights the few candles he’s brought along with a lighter.

The entire time, Niall stands where Harry left him, watching him pull the picnic together with a soft smile on his lips.

Well, at least until Harry says, “Mr. Horan, would you be so kind to joining me in dinner festivities?” He offers Niall his hand, curtseying

Niall laughs at Harry and graciously takes his hand, “I would be _delighted_ , Mr. Styles.”

\--

Halfway through dinner is when Harry realizes what a dork Niall is. He laughs at all of Harry’s knock-knock jokes, even the one’s he didn’t get off Google. He retorts with a few of his own. They are terrible, even worse than Harry’s, but Harry laughs wildly nonetheless. Because, really, that’s the beauty of knock-knock jokes, isn’t it? They are so _un_ funny that they, in turn, become funny.

Niall also takes the straws Harry brought for the drinks, holds it between his gums, and turns to Harry and asks, “Harry, what am I?”

Harry snorts out his drink all over his sandwiches.

It’s Niall that brings up music. “Eagles,” he says with a nod. “Best band ever. Can’t beat ‘em.”

“Better than the Beatles?” Harry asks, skeptically. Niall looks at him like he’s grown two heads. “Better than the Beach Boys?”

This time, Niall snorts out his drink. “The Beach Boys? Really, Styles?”

Harry shrugs. “What? They’re great.”

Niall shakes his head, chuckling fondly. “You, Styles, are a strange and quirky man.”

“Says Walrus Boy,” he counters.

“Walrus _Man_ ,” Niall corrects and Harry snorts.

“Sure, okay.”

\--

Neither one of them knows how it comes about. One moment they’re talking about music, the moment they are stripping down to their boxers.

“Can’t believe you got me out of my pants on the first date!” Niall squeals as he’s undoing his jeans.

“I could say the same about you,” Harry stutters back. It’s a little chilly. Okay, it’s _really_ chilly. “How do you know the water will be warmer?”

“I don’t,” Niall says, stepping out of his trousers.

And there he is. Niall Horan in all his glory, half naked and basking in the moonlight. Fuck, it’s really fucking beautiful.

“Stop staring, you’re making me self-conscious!” Niall pleads and Harry forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“You’ve got nothing to be self-conscious about, pretty boy,” he teases, shrugging of his own shirt. As soon as that hits the floor, Harry can feel Niall’s eyes boring into him.

He turns to face him and find himself staring at a Niall who’s staring back at him. His eyes are half lidded and even in the pale moonlight, Harry can see the Irish boy’s eyes darken.

A feeling runs through his dick and _fuck_ , he needs to get in the water _now._

“Race ya!” he hollers as he runs towards the water. He hears footsteps behind him that soon speed up.

They both enter the water with a splash.

When Harry resurfaces, he finds Niall floating atop the lake on his back.

“Told ya it was warm,” he tells Harry, his eyes concentrated on the night sky above.

The thing is, they don’t live that far from London. So really, there aren’t much stars usually. But of course, today is the day when there isn’t much smog and Harry thanks the universe for siding with him on this one. Because tonight, stars sparsely litter the sky.

“Stars are out,” Harry acknowledges, swimming up to a floating Niall.

“I know. Weird, huh?” he says. Harry dunks his head under the lake, letting the warm water flow through his curls. He loves the way water feels on his skin. It’s soothing.

When he comes back up for air, Niall is off his back. He is looking at Harry, his pale blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. His lips are pulled into a soft smile and Harry finds himself wondering if Niall ever gets upset. He can’t picture it.

Harry doesn’t really know what brought it on, or why it’s now, but suddenly he is overcome with the sensation of _really_ wanting to kiss those pink lips.

Harry swims slowly swims closer, waiting to see if Niall moves away. He doesn’t. So he swim even closer. Niall stays put.

Then, he’s right there. His chest is pressed against Niall’s, his green eyes locking in on Niall’s blue ones. Their noses brush together ever so slightly as the waves push them together.

Their breaths are in sync, waiting.

It’s Harry who leans in first, because it’s Harry who has the craving.

Their lips press together gently and Niall melts into the kiss. His lips are wet from the water and Harry can taste a hint of spearmint gum. They fall into a rhythm, a rhythm conducted by the waves around them. Harry’s hands find their way into Niall’s hair, and Niall’s arms wrap around Harry’s neck. As they press together more tightly, Niall’s tongue swipes against Harry’s bottom lip. He takes this chance to snake out his own tongue, giving Niall access into his mouth. Harry taste the spearmint in Niall’s mouth and Niall tastes Harry’s ginger ale. They stay floating, exploring each other’s tastes, chasing each other’s tongues.

When they finally break apart, Harry’s head is spinning and he can’t tell which way is up.

“Thank you for this amazing date,” Niall whispers against Harry’s lips and Harry nods.

He doesn’t have to say much around Niall. Niall just understands.

It’s time to go. They both know it. So, they untangle from each other and slowly swim out to the shore.

When they get to picnic table, Niall chuckles. “We should’ve thought this through more. Our clothes are going to get all wet.”

“I’m glad we didn’t think it through more,” Harry admits with a smile on his face that’s been there since the kiss.

“Me too,” Niall agrees. 

They decide to clean up the picnic table first, then re-clothe themselves. “Air dry a little,” is Niall’s suggestion.

As they are walking back to Harry’s car, one hand carrying the picnic basket and one hand intertwined with Niall’s, Harry notices that Niall is shivering.

“Can you hold this for a minute?” Harry asks him, and as soon as Niall grabs the basket, he unzips his jumper and holds it out to Niall.

“What are you doing? You’ll freeze!” Niall exclaims, shoving the jumper back into Harry’s hands.

“I don’t really get that cold. Hot blood, or whatever,” Harry shrugs. It wasn’t true. He was chilled to his bone.

“You sure?” Niall asks, looking up at Harry through his lashes.

“’Course. Wouldn’t want it to spread around school that I gave my date pneumonia the very first time we went out, would I? Wouldn’t be very good for my reputation,” he smirks, nudging Niall gently with his shoulder.

Niall takes the jumper.

“Thanks, Styles,” he says.

When they get to the car, Harry drops the picnic basket and holds both of Niall’s hands in his.

“I kind of don’t want this date to be over,” Harry confesses, biting his bottom lip.

Niall grins at him. “I _really_ had a good time, Harry.”

“So then, we can do it again?” he perks up, flashing Niall his most genuine smile.

Niall looks at him for a long time. “Remember the first time we met, Harry?”

Harry nods.

“Remember how I said that your charm doesn’t work on me?”

Harry nods again.

“I lied. Blatantly.” With that, Niall gives Harry a quick peck on the cheek and walks over to the passenger door.

Harry’s heart is beating so loudly he’s 119% sure the entirety of UK can hear it.

He drives Niall home in peaceful silence. They both know it was a good night. They both know that the silence, the soft voice of Ed Sheeran pouring through the speakers, that it’s a good way to end the date.

When they get to Niall’s house, Harry gets out quickly to open the passenger door for Niall.

Niall rolls his eyes at him and he smirks in return.

He walks Niall to his door like a gentleman, even though Niall says that he’s “a big boy” and “can manage to walk five steps by myself.” But he knows it’s not about that. Harry just wants to stay with Niall for as long as he can.

“Bye, Harry. Thanks for walking me to the door, because God knows what horrible things could have happened to me in those ten seconds,” Niall jokes.

Harry looks into his pale blue eyes, the ones that are always sparkling.

“Your eyes always sparkle,” Harry says before he can stop himself.

Niall chuckles. “Thanks. The trick is to add a bit of glitter to them.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me too.”

“You’re the devil.”

“Shh, don’t tell.”

“I think you’re really special. I mean that from the very bottom of my heart.” He says it. He puts his heart on the line. He doesn’t care anymore, this boy makes him absolutely crazy.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Niall says, ending the conversation. Harry feels disappointment settle into his stomach.

“Niall, wait!” he calls, and the blonde turns to face him.

Harry steals a quick kiss from his pink lips and bounds down the stairs.

“Styles!” Niall hollers behind him and Harry jumps into the air and clicks his heels. He hears a beautiful sound of laughter coming from behind him and his heart just keeps swelling.

The thing is, Harry Styles is a charmer. He’s got these dimples and this smile and this seductive, sexy drawl of a voice that charms people into eating right out of the palm of his hand. But Harry Styles is also a loser. He’s a loser and an oaf and a bit of a buffoon whose feet are about three sizes too big. And until tonight, no one really knew this except Harry Styles himself.

But tonight, Niall Horan found out who Harry Styles really was. Harry even reckons that Niall liked the oaf Harry better than the charmer Harry. And he’s okay with that.

Because as Niall found the other side to Harry Styles, Harry also found another side to himself. A side that was completely and stupidly in love with Niall Horan.

\-- 

 

 

Follow my [Tumblr](http://fckziallfck.tumblr.com/)! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any comments and kudos are HIGHLY appreciated and welcomed. Thank you! Liam is next, so keep an eye out, Niam lovers! <3
> 
> \--B


End file.
